


Off-Stage

by litsasecret



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: M/M, Matchmaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-20
Updated: 2010-07-20
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litsasecret/pseuds/litsasecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <img/><a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/aianonlovefest/"><strong>aianonlovefest</strong></a> prompt: Adam & Tommy are falling for each other and want each other like crazy. Tommy doesn't say anything because he thinks Adam isn't interested. Adam's just holding back because he thinks Tommy isn't an option. So neither acknowledges anything more offstage while onstage it gets more intense. Neil picks up on all of this on tour with them and plays matchmaker to get them to tell the other how they feel. Snarky/fun. Happy ending with sexytimes please. Originally posted <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/aianonlovefest/6425.html?thread=6481689#t6481689">here.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Off-Stage

"So," Neil said, appearing out of nowhere. He liked to do that, Tommy had noticed, but that didn't stop it from scaring the ever loving fuck out of him every single time. It wasn't that Tommy was a skittish person, necessarily, but he'd been having these nightmares lately, about being kidnapped by fans who had gotten past security and held for the weirdest ransoms.

Last night it had been for Adam to sing some shitty Britney Spears song wearing nothing but a negligee. And those were some pretty hard images to erase from his mind.

Once Tommy stopped quietly losing it, he glared at Neil.

"So what?" he snapped.

Neil grinned at him, and it was weird how alike he and Adam looked when they grinned like that. Earnest and sure of themselves and yeah, he still had a hard on from the performance, and it had nothing at all to do with the way Neil was smiling at him just like Adam might.

"So I loved the performance. You lean on him a little longer every time, you know."

"Yeah? It's not like Adam minds, and the fans love it."

"Yeah, Adam doesn't mind, does he?" Neil said, exaggerating the words and leering a little and what the hell is Tommy supposed to do with that?

Instead of saying anything, he brushed past Neil and went straight for the dressing room.

Of course Adam was there, carefully peeling rhinestones off his face and brushing the hairspray out of his hair and making Tommy want to strangle him because right now he needs to just be alone, for God's sake, and why the hell is Adam in here anyway?

He said as much aloud, and Adam grinned up at him, beyond reproach.

"There were backstage passes from a radio show. I had to get away."

Tommy knew Adam would go back, would chat with whoever had won the passes for way longer than courtesy demanded and everyone would be deliriously happy with him, but-- "Do you still have those jeans that fit me?" Adam interrupted his train of thought.

Tommy buried his face in his hands, sliding down the door and trying not to start yelling, because seriously? He did not need to see Adam naked right now, not with the adrenaline from the show blazing through his veins still and his dick still hard, can't forget that, especially not with the way the fabric of his pants had wrinkled and stretched as he sat down.

Especially not when after the shows, other than being inappropriately _in Tommy's dressing room_ Adam was nothing more than friendly with him. Tommy was fairly certain that Adam was more affectionate with his _exes_ than with Tommy. Maybe he even touched Monte more.

"Yeah," Tommy said after a long enough pause that it could have been seen as dickish. "Yeah, they're in that trunk by the chair."

Adam gave him an appraising look, the glitter around his eyes making it hard for Tommy to catch his gaze long enough to tell if Adam had taken offense at the delay, but, it's not like it mattered. Off-stage, Adam liked him not for being pretty and willing but because he could play bass reasonably well and didn't mind leaving everything he knew to travel the country.

Not that he'd ever tell Adam how much of a hardship it _wasn't_, because a shitty apartment and too many roommates in LA wasn't a big thing to give up.

"Thanks," Adam said, carefully rifling through the trunk to get at the jeans. Tommy would bet good money that the clothes between Adam and the jeans would be neater after Adam handled them, not rumpled and wrinkled.

Adam started unbuttoning his costume pants quickly, and Tommy had to ask "Did you remember the talc this time?"

"Yeah, but I might still need help." He looked over at Tommy, hands hovering over his fly. "If it's not too much trouble."

Tommy grunted acknowledgement and wondered how weird things would get between them if he just unzipped and started jerking off right where he was.

He had just decided not to risk it when Adam bent his leg and grabbed the cuff of his pants, hopping around and tugging ridiculously in an effort to winch them down enough to get some give in the fabric. Tommy knew exactly how he felt; he'd down this dance himself more than a few times, so he cut the show short.

"Lay down, I've got you," he said with some exasperation. Adam looked ridiculously vulnerable, lurching around like that, trapped in his stupidly outrageous costume.

It piqued whatever butch protective instincts he had hiding in his lizard brain so that he couldn't _not_ offer to help.

It should have been weird, helping Adam out of his pants and watching him shimmy and stretch to get them off while Tommy was hard, but it wasn't. It was familiar and Adam exuded confidence, making it nearly impossible to be uncomfortable around him, no matter his state of dress.

"D'ya need help putting the other ones on?" Tommy asked acerbically.

Adam raised an eyebrow at that, smirking at Tommy. "No, but thank you. I think I can handle it on my own."

Good, Tommy thought. Because Adam had his own performance fueled erection and the less Tommy had to think about that the better.

Adam left, telling Tommy not to be too long, and Tommy barely had to touch himself before he was coming, hard, all over his hands. Tommy washed them in the sink and changed into jeans and a hoodie before venturing past the door, maybe five minutes after Adam had left.

Neil was right there again, and he grabbed Tommy's chin, tilting his face up and peering intently at him. Tommy shook him off and glared.

"What the hell is your _problem_, man?" he demanded, determined to scare him off.

"Nothing, just--" Neil sighed heavily and shook his head, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "You guys are really clueless, aren't you?"

"Look, I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but I've got to--" Tommy looked over his shoulder down the hall to Adam's dressing room. He could hear the low rumble of conversation punctuated by the occasional high pitched giggle. He had to go in there and they had to put on the show again. He knew Adam didn't hate him, and that made it easier to just pretend that they were pretending not to be together.

Stolen touches and warm hugs and the occasional slip of a pet name and pretty much hell on earth for Tommy, because he wanted... he wasn't allowed to want that though.

"Go, then. I'm not stopping you," Neil said, arms up in a 'surrender' pose, taking a few steps backward. Tommy spared one last glance at him over his shoulder before he darted down the hall.

The dressing room was crowded, radio people and a half-dozen fans all crammed into the space, and Adam, who managed to fill up a room just by being in it, signing various things and taking pictures and handing out hugs and answering questions.

Tommy had slipped in unnoticed, but during a lull in the conversation, one of the fans squealed his name and came rushing over, wrapping him in a hug and gushing about how awesome he was.

"Hi," he offered, and she squealed again. He smiled shyly at her and her friend took several pictures before the traded off, and then Adam was behind him, wrapping his arms around Tommy's waist and leaning his cheek against Tommy's temple, and everyone's cameras were going off.

Tommy reveled in the closeness for all of two seconds before he pulled away with a shake and a laugh and Adam laughed too, saying "Sorry, sorry," and then introducing everyone to Tommy, remembering names and being all around impressive.

It made Tommy want to hit something. Or someone maybe. Neil was probably really lucky he's nowhere nearby right now.

Tommy answered the occasional question put to him by the fans, knowing he was probably coming across as shy, but what he needed right now was to be alone. He was tired and the adrenaline was fading.

Adam curled an arm around him, talking still, and Tommy pressed his head against Adam's chest, relaxing into the echoey sound his voice made through his diaphragm.

Adam started carding his fingers through Tommy's hair, and said "Aww, someone's up past his bedtime," laughing a little. "I hate to kick you guys out, but we do have to spend the night on the road, and I should get this one to a bunk." Tommy could _feel_ the suggestive wink accompanying that statement, so he rubbed his head against Adam's chest.

"Any bunk in particular?" he asked sleepily.

"Oh, you know it, glitterbaby," Adam replied petting his hair some more.

The girls giggled and some more camera's flashed, but Adam and the handlers ushered them out and as soon as they were out of sight, Adam disentangled them.

"Sorry," he said, "I didn't mean for that to take so long."

Tommy shrugged and they went the rest of the way in silence.

***  
Adam caught up with Neil just outside the buses, and Tommy clambered up the steps to his with a cheerful greeting for LP.

"How'd it go?" Neil asked.

"Not bad, the fans were less scary than some."

"That's _not_ what I meant," Neil said with some exasperation, trailing Adam into the bus.

"Look, Neil, you know I usually trust you on this stuff but I think you're wrong this time. He was pissed when he found me in his dressing room earlier, couldn't get me out of there fast enough. He yanked my pants off!"

Neil raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Normally that's an indication of someone wanting more time with you, not the other way."

"Haha, very funny. You knew what I meant. Shut up about this, okay? You're wrong. My very _straight_ bass guitarist doesn't want anything more to do with me than the chance to perform on a national scale and cutting his paycheck."

Neil sighed. "You're an idiot, I hope you realize."

"Shut. Up." Adam said, glaring. "I mean it."

Neil shook his head. "I mean it too."

Adam glared some more, stripping naked right in the middle of the bus in an effort to get Neil to go away, but it didn't work, so he climbed up into his bunk without using any of the makeup remover wipes and closed the curtain with a certain finality.

He loaded up a New Age-y playlist without words and blasted it as loud as he could stand, trying to get some peace and quiet even in his head.

It's another concert, another charade. Last night, Adam hadn't slept well, so the adrenaline from performing was making him loopy and high, not just energized. He was touching himself more than usual onstage, and he knew it. It's all good though, it's all for the fans-- except the parts that aren't.

He strutted down the stairs for the opening of 'Fever', and his fingers curled into the fabric of Tommy's shirt, holding him closer than normal, wrinkling the material, and then, of its own accord, his thumb crept along Tommy's jawline and brushed his lips, and then it was too late to do anything because the rhythm took him down across the stage to be surrounded by his dancers.

By the time they were playing 'Sure Fire Winners', Adam could barely think beyond the words of the song and he was damned glad he had done this dozens of times before or he would probably have forgotten them too.

He strode stage left, grabbing hands and winking at fans and then Tommy was there. Adam caught him up against himself, tugging on Tommy's hair to expose his throat, dipping down in between lyrics to _bite_ while the audience screamed. Tommy tasted like sweat and sex and heat and Adam growled a little, even as Tommy leaned against him, letting Adam to support his weight, fingers deft on his strings, not missing a single note of the bass-heavy melody.

God, those fingers... Adam forced himself to pull away, to hit center stage for the conclusion of the song.

He gulped down water during Monte's guitar interlude, and Tommy stole the bottle from him, tipping his head back again so he could finish it off; even though the lighting was poor, he could tell the fans had seen from the way they were screaming. Tommy looked at him, and his expression was unguarded in the flickering lasers, and he looked _devastated_, and Adam felt his heart pounding and his cheeks flushing under his makeup. That had been too far, way, _way_ too far, and now Tommy was going to quit and no one would blame him and Adam wouldn't even have this hour every other day to touch him and pretend Tommy was _his._

He didn't stray from the choreography through the rest of the night.

***  
Adam had been avoiding him for three days, and Tommy was pissed. It wasn't even subtle. Every time Tommy tried to catch his eye, Adam's gaze would drop to Tommy's jawline (where he had covered up the bruise, thank you very much. Adam wasn't the only one who could work magic with concealer.) his expression would turn terrified and he'd turn the other way.

So Tommy was resorting to drastic measures. He'd tweeted a couple of hours before the show "Think the sparkles left our relationship. Need someting to spice things up. Ideas?" With luck, something would turn up. On-stage.

Either way, he was going to end this uncomfortable détente.

Neil was waiting for him in his dressing room, holding up his leather pants against one of his tightest shirts.

"Hi," he said obnoxiously, and Neil turned around grinning.

"You should wear this tonight."

"Uh, how about no? And what the hell are you doing in here anyway?"

"Look," Neil said. "I'm not going to stand here and tell you that my idiot of a brother is hot you, because he swore me to secrecy and he has, like, security people with license to kill or something. But I can definitely heavily imply it, so put on the clothes and go suck him on stage or whatever it is the gays like, okay?"

Tommy blinked.

"I can't wear those though," he said finally. "They'll never go on."

"I come prepared," Neil said grandly, dropping the clothes and whipping a tiny bottle out of his pocket. It had French writing on it, but Tommy recognized the word 'Talc'.

The pants went on fine, and Tommy went on stage feeling perfect. He was an exhibitionist at heart,, so the fact that his outfit this evening fit like a second skin didn't phase him. He also didn't bother with any product. Usually it was useless within the first song anyway; he liked to get into the music and headbanging wasn't great for a perfect style.

He found his mark and waited.

There was a lot more being thrown on stage tonight, because somehow Adam's request that money be donated to charity had actually _worked_ but what Tommy wanted, he got.

Some of it was even interesting, he noticed, as Adam and the dancers carefully nudged everything out of the way.

It wasn't until his introduction that the opportunity actually arose, and Tommy was growing tense with waiting.

Adam has walked towards him as usually, grinning and reaching, when something skidded along the stage between them. Tommy looked down and grinned. Adam's expression was slightly more confused, but it had an undertone of amusement that reassured Tommy. This would definitely work.

Tommy kept gently strumming the staccato beat as Adam bent to pick up the item, turning around and snapping it in the direction of the audience.

"Aw, thank you!" he said. "I haven't gotten one of these in forever," he said smiling. Tommy could feel him gearing up to talk about donations to charity in lieu of floggers again, but several members of the audience screamed in unison.

"It's for Tommy!"

Adam turned to look at him, his brow wrinkled. Tommy took a couple of steps forward, grabbing the flogger from Adam and winking. He gestured for the microphone.

"I hope you guys don't mind if I share though." he said, and the entire audience screamed.

Without telegraphing what he was going to do, Tommy flipped his bass around to his back and dropped to his knees in one fluid motion.

Adam looked stunned. The audience was still screaming, a continual noise that ebbed and flowed. Tommy looked up at Adam, hoping all of his raw lust and emotion was showing on his face the way it was showing on Adam's.

He took the ribbon-like strap at the base of the handle, looping it around Adam's belt and tying it securely in a double half-hitch. It should stay, even for Adam's stage antics. He smoothed the falls of the flogger, guessing it must have been expensive based on the silky smoothness of the leather, the uniformity of the falls, the length. It was really pretty, even prettier on Adam's hip.

Adam's lips were parted when Tommy looked back up, eyes dilated and jaw slack. Tommy made a pleased noise in the back of his throat, gaze drifting to Adam's erection, which, in Tommy's defense, was right at eye level. Tommy braced himself against Adam's hip to stand up, and as he turned away he deliberately let his hand drift across Adam's cock, hesitating and cupping it just a little.

Adam's hand closed over his wrist.

"And I guess you guys know Tommy Joe Ratliff?" he said shakily into the microphone.

A few people laughed a little, and the screaming slowly died down. Adam pulled Tommy closer and settled a hand in his hair. Tommy fumbled with his bass and managed to play a few notes before Adam was walking off, introducing Monte.

Tommy wasn't sure if he could count that as a success or not.

After the show, Adam held his tongue for nearly five minutes while everyone crammed into the tiny room and tried to get out of costume and into something clean and comfortable.

Then he exploded, grabbing Tommy by the shoulder and whirling him around to face him.

"What the _hell_?" he demanded.

Tommy shrugged. "It seemed like the thing to do," he said. "You should have stopped me if it--"

"Not the stupid flogger thing, that part was great, the fans loved it. But you groped me!"

Tommy gave him a look. Taylor laughed outright.

"Man, you choose _now_ of all times to protest your virtue or whatever?"

Adam glared over Tommy's shoulder at him, didn't defend himself.

"Look," Tommy began quietly. "If it's a big deal, I won't do it again, ever. I promise. But-- but I won't apologize."

The last sentence comes tumbling out of his mouth all at once, like his mouth was afraid he'd chicken out again. Still. Forever.

Adam stared at him, mouth opening and closing several times before he could decide on what to say.

"Look, Tommy, if you're trying to teach me a lesson or something, like showing me how it feels, I get it. But if you're uncomfortable with what we do on stage, you need to _tell_ me. The whole Glamily thing isn't just a gimmick. You have to know I'd never do anything I knew made you uncomfortable."

"Oh God," Taylor chimed in. "If you're going to do the whole bad touch lecture, I'm outta here."

Tommy turned his head to glare this time before responding to Adam.

"That's not what I meant," he said, and here came the chickening out thing. But Tommy thought about Neil and how he was probably just outside the door _listening_ and how he'd stalk Tommy forever and probably play dirty, horrible pranks on him the rest of the tour, and suddenly that seemed a whole lot scarier than telling Adam, even with an audience.

Some of this must have shown on his face, because Adam's voice was incredibly gentle when he prompted "What did you mean then?"

"I wanted... for you to understand. That I like it. What-- the stuff we do on stage, I mean. And it sucks that you don't even like me as much as everybody else the second we don't have an audience. That's... that's all."

Tommy dropped his gaze, glad he was still wearing foundation to disguise the slight flush heating his cheeks.

Adam closed the distance between them, and Tommy braced himself, not sure what he was bracing _for_, exactly.

But Adam just wrapped Tommy in a hug, an Adam Lambert special where Tommy was helpless to do anything but sink into it, trusting his balance to Adam and burying his face against Adam's shoulder.

"Oh, _baby_," Adam said, his voice distressed. "Why do you think that? I like you just as much as anyone here, I promise. I don't play favorites, I _don't_!"

Taylor coughed.

"Except for Taylor," Adam said dutifully, and the rest of the room cracked up, but Tommy was still buried against Adam's chest, hating the weight of emotion still clinging to him.

"I don't think you understand still," he said finally, resigned.

Adam inhaled, about to say something, but Longineu interrupted, surprising everyone.

"He wants to have sex with you."

Tommy stiffened, but Adam didn't let him go.

"Oh," Adam said. Then "Thank God."

Someone else, it might have been Monte, muttered "Finally" under his breath, and then everyone left the room in a hurry.

"I'm not starting this in a dressing room in a filthy venue," Adam said finally, pulling away a little and looking at Tommy intently. Tommy nodded.

"But would it be okay if I kissed you?"

Tommy nodded again.

"Good, because-- well I probably would have anyway," he said, before he cupped Tommy's chin and kissed him.

Tommy leaned into it, enjoying himself. Adam knew how to kiss, and his surety was addicting. Adam's free hand went to bury his fingers in Tommy's hair, tugging Tommy into a better angle, then just _tugging_.

Adam broke away after several moments. "Your hair's really soft today," he said.

Tommy smiled, lips tingling. "Yeah?"

Adam sucked in a breath. "Come on," he said. "We need to kick my brother out of my bus so we can have some privacy."

Tommy grinned, then laced his fingers with Adam's. "Let's go then."

The bus wasn't much better than a dressing room, but the tension between them, now acknowledged, was snapping like a live wire, and the second the door was closed behind them, Tommy tackled Adam, working on his clothing. Adam laughed and held up his arms in surrender, and Tommy tugged them back down again so he could slide Adam's shirt over his shoulders.

Tommy slid out of his own shirt, then frowned at his pants. He wished he'd taken them off in the dressing room, or hadn't let Neil dress him, or something.

Adam realized what was wrong though, and said "Lay down, baby, I've got you," and Tommy bit his lip, but lay down as requested. Adam worked his fingers under the waisitband, winching the pants down slowly, kissing the skin of Tommy's hip as it was exposed, working his way down Tommy's legs inch by agonizing inch.

"You've done this before," Tommy complained. Adam smirked up at him.

"Mmm," he agreed. "Been thinking about doing it to you since you showed up onstage like this. Thought you vowed never to wear leather pants again or something?"

"I lied," Tommy said, then gasped as Adam bit him, gently, on the side of his knee.

"Bad boy," Adam said, then smiled up at him again, eyes sparkling with mischief. "I still have the new flogger too."

Tommy shook his head. "My flogger, you mean," he corrected, and Adam's eyes widened, and Tommy could appreciate that the pupils were huge with desire.

"You're going to kill me," Adam said reverently, carefully pulling the pants the rest of the way off, then moving up to cover Tommy and kiss him some more.

Tommy had thought the kiss in the dressing room was good, but this kiss was fantastic. It was dirty and sloppy, and Adam's hands roamed over Tommy's body, tangling with Tommy's hands as Tommy tried to reciprocate.

Adam chuckled into the kiss, and Tommy arched into Adam's touch.

"Here," Adam drew back slightly to say, lips brushing Tommy's just barely. Tommy shivered. Then, Adam's hand closed around his erection and Tommy shuddered all over, making a noise that would have been embarrassing in any other context, but right now seemed to simply spur Adam on.

Tommy reached between them to lace his fingers with Adam's and Adam groaned, adjusting their grip so that both of their erections were trapped, and he thrust shallowly against them.

Tommy opened his mouth, but no sound came out, and Adam leaned lower to suck and bite at Tommy's throat while he guided their fists around them.

Tommy came first, hips stuttering as he cried out and his hand tried to stroke faster on instinct.

Adam pulled him through it, tempering Tommy's rhythm and using Tommy's come to slick the way until he shuddered and collapsed on top of Tommy.

After a few minutes, Tommy nudged at Adam to roll over, because he was hot and claustrophobia inducing.

Adam muttered "Sorry" and pulled away completely, not making eye contact with Tommy as he did so, which was _so_ not what Tommy wanted.

"Wait," he said, following Adam's body with his own, trying to keep the contact. "What's wrong?"

Adam shook his head. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to," he said, and his voice was low and he still wasn't making eye contact. "I know straight boys don't cuddle." And Tommy knew this voice, it was the 'I'm an idiot and I forgot,' voice, the same one he'd used immediately after the performance at the AMAs when he'd found Tommy and stuttered out an apology, shocking Tommy as much now as it had then.

"Don't be stupid," he said with some exasperation, pulling Adam back against himself, licking the come off his hand so he could pet Adam's hair without losing any major body parts.

"I wasn't kicking you out of my bed, baby boy," he said. "I'm smaller than you; I couldn't breathe. Next time we'll make sure to do it so _I_ can collapse on _you_, and we won't even have to roll over to keep cuddling." Because of course Adam was a snuggler. He snuggled with people he wasn't sleeping with, and Tommy was willing to go with it, because Adam was a good hugger, big and warm and strong.

Well, except when he wasn't.

"I don't want to, uhm," Adam mumbled, still not relaxing against Tommy, and Tommy wanted to hit him right about now. "I don't want you to think you have to be someone else to make this work, you know?"

Tommy shook his head. "Relationships change people, no matter what though. I'm not the same person I was when we met a year ago, and that's already because of you. Besides, it's sex. I've never been opposed to some post-coital intimacy anyway, and sex is a lot about doing what the other person wants. I mean, in my experience."

Adam shifted, laughing a little, still uncomfortable. "Well, that ruined the mood, huh?"

Tommy rolled his eyes, even though Adam couldn't see him. "Let's get cleaned up and try again," he said firmly.

Adam still had half his rhinestones on his face, and his makeup was smudged beyond repair, and he was being a total moron. As Tommy stood up and offered Adam his hand, he realized he wouldn't have this any other way. Everyone had their stupid little idiosyncracies, their moments of insecurity.

The easy part about this was that he and Adam knew each other's already.


End file.
